


Atheist

by taxidermybears



Category: Tegan and Sara (Band)
Genre: Drabble, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 02:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8604025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taxidermybears/pseuds/taxidermybears
Summary: Tegan doesn't think Sara is really an atheist. Drabble.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the [antics during their Halloween show.](http://taxidermybears.tumblr.com/post/153429025873)

Tegan’s fingertips ghost along the groove between Sara’s collarbones. The small mess of cum they left on the bed probably isn’t even dry yet, but the touch makes Sara want to bury herself inside her sister again, to reach in and stay for as long as Tegan would allow.

Sara has composure, though, and she wants to share in the afterglow with Tegan more than she wants to fuck her again. Her hands find Tegan’s scalp, running and scratching her fingers through her sister’s hair. Always soft, no matter what, no matter how long they’ve been trapped on the tour bus. Sara figures that means that her hair is always soft too. At one point a thought like that would have made Sara shove Tegan off of her and evacuate like the fire alarms were blaring. She remembers she would accidentally slam the door on the way out as she bolted to her own hotel room, belt still undone and hanging from the loops, the zipper of her pants halfway open. All those people she had passed in the hallway must have thought she was on meth.

She leans down and kisses the top of Tegan’s head. It had taken so long for Sara to realize that being the same didn’t make Tegan less special.

“The scariest thing this Halloween,” Tegan’s voice is muffled against the crook of Sara’s neck, breath hot against the skin. If it were anyone else, the sensation would irk Sara, make her feel claustrophobic. When Tegan does it, all she wants is Tegan to empty her lungs onto her. “Was how hard you made me cum.”

“I think the scariest thing was how loud we were,” Sara says. Her fingers move downward and stroke the back of Tegan’s neck, tangling themselves in her thin baby-hairs. “The people in the next room probably thought a murder was taking place. An actual murder.”

“Or,” Tegan begins, lifting herself up to be eye-level with Sara. “They just thought we were having really good sex.” She leans in and they kiss. Slow, steady. They perfect their rhythm. Eventually the hand that was on the back of Tegan’s neck moves down and claims a handful of her ass. Sara guesses they’re going at it again but she has no qualms about that, no way, no ma'am. She takes Tegan however she offers herself.

Sara’s hands on Tegan’s ass force their pelvises to meet. Tegan moans into the kiss, always louder than Sara. Always vocal, always reactive. Sara whispers the question ( _Do you want me_?) and Tegan screams the answer ( _Please, Sara, so fucking bad_ ). Every time they fuck Sara is reminded of a baby-faced Tegan with a shaved head, a bundle of energy writhing underneath her, so doped up with pleasure that Sara has to kiss her to muffle her moans so their mom doesn’t hear.

“I had to stop myself from calling you out on stage tonight,” Tegan says as she pulls away from Sara’s mouth. She’s smirking and Sara wants to fuck it right off her face. “I don’t think you’re really an atheist.”

“Why’s that?”

Tegan tweaks both of Sara’s nipples between her fingers, hard.

“ _Oh, God._ ” Sara whimpers and clutches Tegan’s shoulders like she’s something sacred.

“See?” Tegan whispers it in her ear. Sara’s eyes are closed but all she sees is holy light.


End file.
